The Gift
by Indigo Ziona
Summary: Comfort and friendship - two things a wolf does not understand.


_Hi folks. How can I possibly apologise for my dreadful lack of updating? Sure, I don't have home internet access at the moment (I'm at my parents' house for Christmas, and otherwise have to check from work), sure I'm busy, but goodness gracious I've abandoned my poor fics for far too long. I hope that to any of my readers this will soothe your annoyance... to any new readers of my work, just enjoy and thank your lucky stars this is a one off._

_Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!  
_

**The Gift**

A silvery snout sniffed the chilly December air. It belonged to a wolf – a great, haggard one who had seen much pain. The wolf was in woodland – but nearby it could smell people, and it was hungry – famished – for flesh. Blood was rushing through its lean and excited body, and blood was the taste it longed for. It padded forward through the woods, growing more and more agitated. Its tongue was becoming sore with the longing of the teeth, their grinding and gnashing for fresh meat. The scent was becoming stronger, overwhelming the wolf's nostrils with its temptation… The wolf broke into a run, bounding down the bank and near to the first house – and then…

What stopped the wolf was a dog. The dog was huge, as large as the wolf and broader in shape. The two animals rolled on the frozen ground, yelping furiously and scratching. The dog easily bested the wolf, and as it retreated, meaning to flee, another creature bounded in to block its path – an enormous and beautiful stag.

The stag and the dog – peculiar wardens for their lupine prisoner – jostled the wolf into submission. The shock at this treatment subdued the wolf – even made it forget the terrible longing it had for blood, for a moment. The three animals walked through the woods in solemn procession, and the wolf hung its head in shameful bewilderment. They reached a crude human dwelling – there was little scent on it, and the scent was old. The wolf's chaperones nudged it inside, and then followed.

Yet inside… inside there was a scent. There was animal scent, obviously – the dog and the stag had odour enough, and there was also a faint hint of rat – but there was also something else, something that called to the wolf's lean and empty belly. As it bounded up the stairs to find the source of the smell, it found itself staring at an object of utter delight – a fresh, featherless raw turkey. Prey that could not fight or flee.

The wolf's predator teeth tore eagerly at the flesh. It ate ravenously, ferociously, violently. When at last it was satiated, the wolf flopped with a satisfied exhaustion onto the moth-eaten carpet.

And finally, it could look at the animals before it. The dog, though they had fought, looked gentle and puppy-like. The stag was serene. Another creature joined them – a small creature, a rat. The rodent did not look afraid, but sat in uncharacteristic stillness.

Could a wolf's blood be soothed? More than the turkey had satisfied the wolf, it was made content now – by its strange companions. They gazed with an emotion that a wolf cannot understand, but human can… a slowly awakening human, who was gazing into friendly faces and understanding that he was loved, loved more than he had ever thought possible, by his friends.

The communion between them had no words – how could it? But they passed the night amiably, at last huddling to sleep.

A very messy sixteen year old boy called Remus Lupin woke up and discovered he was lying on the floor. This was not unusual for Remus – on such days, he also woke up with a fair few fresh scratches and a dreadful stomachache. That was the strange thing… This morning, however, he did have a few new scratches, but he felt different, somehow. Warm, contented, satisfied. Loved.

He struggled to sitting position, ran his fingers through his tangled hair – noticed for the first time that he'd had a blanket, which was absolutely unheard of – and then noticed that there was a dog asleep next to him.

It was a beautiful sleek black dog with long shaggy fur. Remus couldn't help but reach out to his strange companion and stroke him, and as he did, memories slowly trickled into his mind.

After a transformation, he usually remembered nothing – and anything he remembered was unpleasant – but stroking this sleeping dog next to him, he remembered something… There had been a gentleness, even a gentleness that a wolf can sense. There had been companionship. There had been a moment, a faint moment, when he had almost felt like himself.

"Morning," came a cheerful voice. Remus looked around. Standing there, looking scruffy and bright-eyed, was James Potter.

"James," he murmured.

"It's all right," James said. "I know you normally feel rubbish after a transformation."

He produced a bag. "I brought you some breakfast. It's far too early for Pomfrey to come."

Remus stared at the bag, and stared at his friend, and couldn't find any words. He gingerly took the bag and looked inside. There were a couple of buns with sausage and egg in them.

"Thanks," he breathed.

"Don't mention it."

Remus ate slowly, and as he did so, the black dog stirred. His eyes opened, then he got up, and gradually turned into Sirius Black.

"Ah, morning Remus. Morning James."

"Morning," James said.

Remus knew that he should have felt much more overwhelmed by all this – but he was much too exhausted to be overwhelmed, so he just smiled at Sirius as if this were any other day.

"Did you get me breakfast?" Sirius asked James.

"Peter's bringing it. He's getting about six courses," James laughed.

And Peter did arrive a few minutes later – carrying some large paperbags stuffed full of food. "Morning Remus," he said nonchalantly. "How do you feel?"

"I've been better," Remus smiled, as Peter and Sirius divided the food into two enormous piles between them.

Had he been better? Despite everything, he was feeling happy. Tired, achy, hurt – but happy. He looked at his three friends, eating breakfast as if this was perfectly normal. He remembered more now – looking at James's eyes, he remembered a magnificent stag, powerful and serene. Peter twitched like the little rat – so small yet so unafraid.

"Th-thanks," he stammered, willing himself to make the speech they deserved. "For everything."

"It was great fun," James said. "We finally managed it last week, you know. But we kept it as a surprise."

Peter nodded eagerly, with a little smile on his face. "You broke free from the shack – gave us such a fright."

"It was wonderful," Remus said. "I just felt…" His thoughts sounded foolish. "I don't know. Good, I suppose. Happy to have friends like you."

He blushed. They were all grinning.

"Remus, you're great," Sirius exclaimed. "And I bet you don't even know what day it is."

He didn't. He had to think… and then it came to him.

"Oh…. You mean?"

"Yes," Sirius said. "Merry Christmas, Remus."


End file.
